


there's something about you that makes me feel alive

by dancing_mannequins



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Gen, M/M, all my feelings on josh, its brain vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 11:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7047580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancing_mannequins/pseuds/dancing_mannequins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>my thoughts on our favorite alien boy ❤<br/>(warning, guts/blood. but lovingly.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

i wanna see every facet of him, every angle, every side. i want to see him in tears. i want to see him at his happiest, his side-splitting laughter, or quiet giggles as he tries to refrain from laughing. i want to see him silent, sleeping, small breaths of air puffing out from between his lips.  
he's been my biggest muse. everything i write with him comes out beautifully, easily. i've improved my art with him. i've coped using him. he makes me happy.  
i want to bury my face in his chest, cuddle with him on the sofa. watch the x-files, curled up on my bed and my shaky hands can barely hold my phone straight. i want to fall asleep in his big strong arms. i'm not normally into muscles but he looks really cushy. i want to borrow his jackets and his shirts. i bet they're soft and smell like him.  
i wonder what he smells like. probably sweat mixed with something else. maybe his shampoo? deodorant? i feel weird thinking about it but in all the dreams i've had of him we've always felt so intimate.  
i remember so vividly, him nibbling on my lower lip, breaking away and then pressing close to me again. he felt so warm. i wish i could hold him forever.  
his smile makes me feel safe, his laugh is beautiful noise to my ears. i could listen to him talk and lull me to sleep. i want to be self-indulgent and write more about us, him and me. but whenever i do it feels wrong, like i've stepped over a line.  
i'm guilty, somewhat ashamed that i want to feel his blood in my hands, on my fingers. see what he's like on the inside. i bet he's just as beautiful. maybe a little eroded from caffeine, from booze, but scars make you prettier. it shows you're alive, it shows you've lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this is literally just my thoughts on josh, you can see how bad i've got it for him. idk i haven't posted in a while and i wanted to post something, anything, and i wrote this just today so, ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> in case you're wondering what the kiss part is about? i've had several dreams about kissing josh and just, y'know, cuddling and holding him. they're the best dreams i've ever had tbh


	2. Chapter 2

it's a weird feeling of mine, to see him cry. would his face bunch up like when he smiles? tears falling silently and slowly down his face, dripping onto his shirt. i desperately want to know but i don't want to pry. i want to feel his warm tears under my fingers as i wipe them away. ha, like that would ever be me. i'm nothing compared to him. he is the sun, and i'm the moon. in metaphorical size, at least.  
he looks beautiful up on those drums. the movement of his muscles, man. sometimes it's hard to imagine drumming that fast. he's saving my skin and stealing my heart up there on those drums.  
he's shy, he's nerdy, he's just my type. i didn't know one human being could be so perfect. his v-line makes me feel some sort of way, and his pecs, tiddies, whatever. they're great. and any chance i get to listen to him sing or hum is magical. he might not be the best at rapping, he might be off-key, but damn. i think i'm in love with every bit of him.  
but i want to know more. even with five hundred pictures of him, more than thirty videos of him talking, i still want more. i want to know what it's like inside his head. i want to know what it was like growing up with him, even though that'll never happen. i want to know all his good memories along with the bad ones, but to be honest, i'd probably regret asking.  
i want to know every inch of his skin. what scars does he have, strangely placed freckles. i want to trace my fingers over all of his tattoos, over his hips. i wanna feel those thighs under my hands. they look so good while he's in pants, they must look even better out in the open.  
i bet his hands are almost twice as big as mine. maybe only half as big. but i bet they're warm, calloused yet soft. i like to imagine him holding my hands as if i'm the most precious thing in the world. sitting cross-legged across from each other, me studying his hands, him looking at my face. yeah, that sounds nice. being loved in return.

 

 

|sleep, take me|

  
soft fabric dragging over my shoulders, and i tangle my legs with his. i grab fistfuls of his shirt if only to see what it looks like. i'm in his nasa shirt and he's borrowing my star wars pullover, the fairy lights over my bed are plugged in. he doesn't like to sleep in the dark and it's ok because i can sleep fine when i'm by his side. he pulls me into a hug, close as we can be, almost closer. i can feel his stubble on my forehead and his heart beating under my hands. under the sheets is warm, but it's home. my legs and his brush against each other softly. i breathe in and faintly smell the coffee he had at lunch, remembering when i took a sip and he laughed at the whipped cream on my lips. i slide my hands and wrap my arms around his torso in an attempt to hug him closer, my nose bumps against his chest and his shoulders quietly shake with a laugh. we're peaceful, this is peaceful. i keep running over in my mind how much i love him, how much i don't deserve him, but he's here. his palms pressed flat against my back, and mine on his. i clench my hands in the fabric once again, before my limbs slacken and we both fall into a deep sleep.


End file.
